The Descent
by Squidly
Summary: Originally a one-shot, now a full story. The season 3 finale, MY way, MUAHMUAHMUAH! Mostly Delena. Rated T for future chapters and cussing : D
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Long time no update, eh? Sorry, been busy. Pimps gotta live. Anyways…. I was having a shower this morning and I had this really super random idea for the season 3 finale. It probably won't happen, and to be honest I don't think I would be too happy if it DID happen because it would mean back to square one for Delena but I think it would be a really epic moment. And we all know that epic moments are what TVD is all about. Am I wrong? **

**...**

Damon was still reeling from the events of the day. It had all started with a phone call. After Rebekah had witnessed Khol's death at Matt's hands she had flown the coop; promising her brother that she would never cross paths with him again, telling him that wherever he went darkness not only followed, but flourished. Damon admired her strength; she was such a child still in so many ways. Even he had lived more in his 171 years than she had in 1000. For her to leave Mystic Falls now, without the brother who had acted as a constant security blanket was a bold choice for someone who had never been on her own. A short phone call from her was all it took to set everything in motion:

**That morning…**

Damon had been pacing the Salvatore parlour room for what seemed like hours. He had just poured himself a bourbon; the first of what would become an entire bottle by the end of the day, when his phone went off in his pocket. Reading the name on the screen had him flinching involuntarily as the painful memories of an afternoon of torture came flooding back. Sighing, he answered.

"Hello Rebekah. Or am I speaking with Esther? Who are you today you naughty little minx?" Retain smart-ass composure, avoid subject at all cost. THIS was how Damon Salvatore remained placid …

"Damon, its Rebekah," she spoke in her usual estuary accent. After a pause: "Real Rebekah. And I'm leaving Mystic Falls. I'm leaving now."

Damon stopped pacing. People seemed to come and go from this god-forsaken town more often than they stayed, her departure didn't come as a shock. What stopped Damon in his tracks was what this could mean for Elena, the girl who he was hell-bent on protecting, the soul doppleganger key to Klaus' hybrid army… "Klaus is going with you I assume?"

"I should have known your simple thoughts would flit straight to Elena. Don't worry darling, she's safe; for now at least. Niklaus told me that he plans on staying in Mystic Falls; however, you and I both know how he hates the solitude of an empty house. I expect he will start packing any day now; and I'm sure I don't have to remind you that he will never leave town without his blood source…."

"Why are you telling me this?" He cut in, unable to stomach the taunting. "I am well aware of what drives Klaus. I'm not playing games with you Rebekah, if you have a point, make it now. Otherwise I'm done with this conversation."

"Elijah turned a vampire named Vikrahm in 1405." Damon took a seat on the couch. Now THIS, was something he was willing to listen to.

"Continue…."

"He turned him for me. I guess he had hoped that Vik would court me and that I would become someone else's problem once we were together. It didn't really work out that way. He took interest in another girl, a human. Are you following me Damon?"

"Wait a second, are you telling me that someone chose Mary _Porter _over you? Like, Scary Mary? Please tell me I'm on the same page here…" Damon tried his best not to seem too over-eager, not to let on that he was secretly bursting from within after practically being handed this piece of information on a silver platter. "…because if so, THAT is priceless. I mean, tell me 'Becks, did you even MEET Scary Mary?"

"You can laugh all you want Damon but I know that this is a puzzle that you have spent weeks trying to figure out. You would never have known the answer if I hadn't told you. Vikrahm didn't even tell Elijah about Mary."

Damon let all the humour in his tone drift away… "Okay Rebekah, you've done me a great favour here. Why? Why the change of heart?"

"It doesn't matter why I chose to tell you Damon; because come morning, I will be nothing but a memory to you and your sad little friends. But I intend to leave you with a parting gift. Information: Klaus is on his own; no family, no hybrids. And your blood line comes from Elijah. What you choose to do with those two pieces of information is no longer my problem." Rebekah paused, taking a breath before continuing. "You and I could have had something Damon… Why you chose to betray me for someone who will never return your love…. Oh well, I supposed none of that matters now. Goodbye Damon. I really do wish you the best."

"Goodbye Rebekah. Thank Y-" The line went silent before Damon could finish his apology. He had exactly 7 seconds to bask in the slight feeling of regret that was tugging lightly on his subconscious before he made a series of phone calls that would change everything.

...

**BOO. OMG. This is honestly torture to write. I can't wait to get to the end were my idea comes into play. This was originally supposed to be a one-shot but I'm not sure I'm capable of writing a one-shot. Too much has to be set up before I get to the good stuff. Anyone else get that? Anyone else get really awesome ideas that they wanna share but never do because of how much backstory has to be written first? Anyways, I'm in it now. I'll be up all night. *grumble* REVIEWS ARE LOVED! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, here's chapter dos. Hope you like it. Not going to lie, I wept the entire time I wrote it. Damon and Elena's relationship is so intense and deep for me. Anyways, ENJOY! **

**...**

Elena woke groggily to a beautiful sunrise. She had somehow remained in the same position that she had fallen into the night before: curled up at the end of her bed, sneakers still on, head barely hanging off of the edge of the mattress where her feet normally rested. The sheets were still damp from the tears she had shed the night before and her eyes were almost swollen shut from crying.

She remained silent as a beam of sunlight fell across her floor and she watched as it slowly made its way towards where her head was resting. When the sun finally fell across her face she remained still. She was too emotionally and physically exhausted to make a move to close her curtains, leaving them open for the world to witness her pain.

The memories of the night before flitted back to her all at once, overwhelming her psyche with images of Ric's face in his final moments. Telling herself that it was "Evil Alaric" that had died, like Stefan had told her to, was completely useless; especially when she had looked into his eyes and saw the mixture of confusion, betrayal and overall hurt that resided there. She wanted to be mad. She wanted to kick, scream, punch, slap, blame and accuse like she had done with every other death thus far, but she couldn't. Ric had trained her, shaped her, taught her to be strong; and when she felt that stake sink into his chest, she knew he had taught her well. She had looked him in the eyes then, and watched as a tear slid from the corner of one, and disappeared into the fabric of his black shirt. "I'm sorry," she whispered before she decapitated him with the blade in her other hand.

With the memory came fresh tears that stung her tired eyes as they glinted in the morning sun. If only she could muster the strength to get up and close the blood-red curtains, then and only then could she crawl into the shadows and mourn not only the loss of her dear friend, but also the loss of her own innocence. She closed her eyes, remembering a time when things were simpler. The last time she had laid on this bed upside-down with tears in her eyes had been her very first big fight with Matt. What the fight was about she didn't remember, nor did it matter. What mattered was that someone had been there in the morning to close her curtains when she wasn't ready to face the day. She imagined her mother coming into the room with a cup of tea (chamomile, it smelt like) and without even asking, going straight to the window to pull the curtains closed. Once Elena felt the heat leave her face, she knew it was safe to open her eyes. But when she did, she didn't see the soft green of Miranda Gilbert's eyes; she saw the startling blue of Damon's.

She stared at him in awe. How could this man; this man who killed innocent people, who personally demolished every relationship he had ever had, be exactly what she needed at a time like this. His cobalt gaze was just what she needed to cool the anger that was boiling inside of her, but not the despair. She knew that despair was a companion that would be with her forever; no matter how long her forever would be.

"I made you tea. I smell this on you all the time, so I assumed it was your favorite." He didn't smile, didn't even attempt to make light of the situation. He just absorbed every inch of her pain through his gaze. He was here to bring more bad news. She could feel it; but she wasn't ready, and she knew that he would wait until she was.

"I loved him so much," she muttered, before she broke into heavy sobs that shook her small frame.

Damon, putting the tea down and placing himself beside her on the bed, reached for Elena. When she reached back he felt relieved. As long as she reached back she would be okay. The worst thing for Elena Gilbert was solitude. She may have thought she was losing everyone around her but she would see soon enough how much she was loved. He folded her in his arms and rocked her till her sobs phased from hiccups to shuddering breaths. He would make her see.

…...

When Elena had finished crying he continued to hold her. They sat like that for what seemed like hours, until Damon kissed Elena on the forehead and stood, bringing her with him.

"It's time to face the day sunshine. No one expects you to be strong, just present. There will be more tears today, and they won't just be from you." Damon remained soft spoken, afraid of pressuring her.

Elena's second sentence of the day seemed so trivial compared to her first, "But I'm a mess."

Damon frowned at her statement. Yes, she was clearly a mess; but she had never looked more beautiful to him. This is when he loved her the most, in her natural state. He hated seeing her guarded, strong. It was so unbecoming for an 18 year old girl. He loved her youth and her vitality, and part of being young is having unrestrained emotions. He took her by the hand and led her to the washroom she shared with Jeremy. Sitting her on the toilet lid, he turned his attention to the bathtub and started the water.

She couldn't help but stare at him as he nurtured her. He took her right hand and placed it under the faucet, gauging her reaction to the temperature of the water. Damon was satisfied when she didn't flinch and went to work on gathering towels and toiletries from the sink. When everything was arranged and the bath was half full with bubbles, he stood her up, reaching for the hem of her shirt. Adrenaline washed through Elena when she realized what Damon was doing. He must have recognized the panic in her expression because he stopped, and looking in her eyes the whole time said, "It's nothing I haven't seen Elena. This isn't about sex for me, not now. This is about you. I'm no hormonal teenager, I know the difference." And that was all it took for her to trust him. She allowed him to remove her t-shirt and her jeans, looking her in the eyes the entire time. When Elena was wearing nothing but her underwear he kissed her, again on the forehead and whispered, "Can you handle the rest?"

She nodded, already feeling better from the scent of her lavender bubble bath.

"I'm going to make you some fresh tea. I'll be back."

Elena sank into the bath, reveling in the feeling of her muscles coming undone. When her body finally felt normal she got to work on washing her face, her movements slow at first but picking up pace the better she felt. She could hear Damon in the kitchen, opening drawers to look for things. Pretty soon she could smell breakfast seeping up through the floorboards. Omelets? Definitely omelets, her mouth watered at the thought. She heard his voice; clearly he was talking on his cell, to whom? It didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was here, now.

Someone had asked her once if she loved Damon, she couldn't remember who but she did remember that she had said no. Things had definitely changed since then. Did she love him now? There was no way to be sure amidst all of the other things in her head but she did know one thing for certain: she loved the way he made her feel; like everything would be okay. She loved being taken care of when she was typically the one taking care of everyone else. She loved herself with him, and isn't that the first step of loving anyone?

...

**DER YA GO! 2 full pages of DELENA FLUFF. Pure fluff at this point…. Not saying it won't get dirtier ; ) PLEASE REVIEW GUYS. Your encouragement keeps me going on this. **


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